


Writing in Tongues

by Kirathaune



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Elricest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirathaune/pseuds/Kirathaune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in Xing, Al receives a letter from his brother. Is it a list of needed supplies, or something more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writing in Tongues

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the FMA Slashfest on LJ, the prompt was "Ed/Al (Any Canon): letter writing (using code, maybe?)" It's probably badly conjugated, but real Latin is used in the letters.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the ornately paned window in Alphonse's study, casting sharply angled shadows on the desk below it and making the highlights in Al's hair shine like burnished gold. A scroll was unfurled in front of the young alchemist, and the only noise in the small room was the scritching of Al's fountain pen as he made notes in a worn, dog-eared notebook.

"Master Alphonse?"

Startled, Al looked up from the scroll he had been studying. It was Huan, and the young Xingese servant lingered nervously in the doorway. Most of the servants lingered nervously in the doorway of Al's study, but considering the nature of the experiments Al conducted there he couldn't really blame them. "Come in, Huan. It's all right, I'm only studying this afternoon." He waved a hand at the alkehestry scrolls that were piled on his desk.

"I am sorry to interrupt the young master's study, but this letter came for you." The young servant hurried over and bowed while he held up a sealed envelope in his hand. "It is from Amestris."

"Amestris?" Al snatched the letter from Huan's outstretched hand. Maybe was it from Winry, telling him about the latest happenings in Resembool. Or maybe it was it from Teacher; Izumi was interested in learning about Al's progress in researching alkehestry.

_Or maybe..._

Fingers trembling with excitement, Al turned over the envelope to see the handwriting on its front.

_Brother_.

He tore it open.

"Master Alphonse? Is everything all right? Not bad news, I hope?"

Al smiled. "No, not bad news; it's from my brother." He brushed his thumb against the fine grain of the paper.

Huan nodded vigorously. "I will leave you to your letter, then. And Master Alphonse, His Imperial Majesty bade me tell you that he requests your presence at supper this evening; there is to be a small banquet celebrating the planting of the rice fields."

"Yes, of course," Al replied, but his attention was focused on his brother's tight, slanting scrawl. "Thank you, Huan."

When Huan closed the door Al rose and locked it, and then he returned to his seat at the carved rosewood desk and unfolded the letter.

 _Dear Al,  
  
I hope you're well and that Ling isn't driving you too crazy. I've been traveling a lot these days, studying wherever I can find a library or a town that has an alchemist. As you can guess, supplies can be hard to come by.  
  
I need the following:  
  
Teum  
Me juxta  
In puris naturalibus  
Pectus pectoris pulsus,  
Pulmo spiritus,  
Vivo  
  
Labium mei super tergum teum,  
Geusia,  
Edo Edi Essum  
  
Linguae mei  
Mappa specus madidus os teum  
Voro susurro delectatio  
  
Corpus Corporis Teum, permoveo infra mei  
Rigor pulpa mei penitus  
Peccomus simul  
  
Te Requiro  
Te Cupido  
Te Amo  
  
Please let me know if you can give these things to me.  
  
Love, Ed_ 


By the time Al finished reading the letter his skin was flushed and his heart was racing. "Brother," he whispered.

It had been several months since Ed had sent him one of these 'lists'. While they seemed to be merely ingredients and supplies, the words were a code they used to tell each other the things they could never say outside the room they had shared in Resembool; things that no one else could ever hear, or read.

Just like no one else could ever know that they loved each other more than brothers should love.

Ed had suggested they study separately, to see if their ardor would dampen with distance and time. It hadn't. Al had sent the first list, using the mother language of alchemy to pour out his passion to his brother, and Ed had quickly caught on and reciprocated. They were discreet, only sending letters every few months and always couching them in a disguise of needed supplies, hiding the erotic words and desires that were really there.

Al leaned back in his chair while his fingers rubbed slow spirals onto the smooth paper of his brother's letter. He wished it was Ed's skin under his fingers; the smooth, soft skin of his belly and the rough patches of his scars. Warmth was pooling in Al's groin, and it tightened and grew hotter when he picked up the letter and slowly re-read it. He let his hand glide over the front of his silk trousers; a feather-light touch over a growing hardness.

A few minutes later, Al took the letter with him into his bedroom, where he took out a set of dress clothes and set them on his bed before heading into the lavishly appointed bathroom. He set the letter beside the sink and read it a third time while he toed off his slippers.

_You  
beside me  
completely naked  
heart beating,  
lungs breathing,  
alive._

Al unfastened the knotted buttons of his silk tunic and let the garment fall to the floor. His trousers and boxers followed, and Al shivered as cool air drifted across his bare skin. He turned on the shower's faucet, and while he waited for the water to get hot he studied his naked reflection in the gilt mirror that hung above the sink. He had still been pretty thin when he'd left for Xing; now he had filled out, and his sparring sessions with Ling had given him lean, toned muscles. He wished Ed could see him like this.

He wished Ed could touch him like this.

_My lips on your skin,  
tasting you,  
devouring you.  
_  
Al ran his hand along taut stomach muscles, then lower still to brush over his stiffening erection. He stepped into the shower, hissing when the hot water pelted his skin. "Too hot," he murmured, and he turned the knob back to a more bearable temperature. Al stood under the spray, letting it soak his hair and rush over his body. He opened his mouth to catch some of the hot, wet droplets.

_My tongue  
mapping the moist cavern of your mouth  
and swallowing your whispers of pleasure.  
_  
Al lathered up, and as he began to wash himself he imagined it was Ed's hands that caressed him. Soapy fingers played with taut nipples, and then one hand slid lower to grasp his hardened length. "Ed," he moaned while he slowly stroked himself.

_Your body moving beneath mine,  
my hard flesh inside you  
as we sin together.  
_  
Hot water continued to cascade over Al's back, and he pressed his forehead against the smooth marble of the shower wall while his hand moved faster over his erection. Muffled gasps and his brother's name escaped his mouth while he rocked his hips, thrusting into his stroking hand. The heat inside him was building, carrying him to the brink of climax.

_I miss you  
I want you  
I love you  
_  
"Ed," he said, panting, "oh fuck, Ed. I miss you too, want you, love you." Al shuddered and came, and he slumped against the marble wall and watched while the water coursed over his trembling body and washed his spend away. He stood that way for a few minutes, luxuriating in the hot water on his skin and the after-shocks of pleasure that continued to spark through him. Then with a sigh, he soaped up again and washed himself properly.

Ten minutes later he was dressed in his dinner clothes, and Al walked back to his desk with Ed's letter while he rubbed at his hair with a towel. He was looking forward to the dinner; he had been wrapped up in his research lately, and he realized it had been a good week or more since he had seen his friends. He tossed the towel on a spare chair and reached for a piece of parchment, figuring he could at least start on his reply before he had to go to the banquet. He cleaned the tip of his fountain pen and began to write.

"Who are you writing to?"

Al started and dropped his pen, and he turned to see Ling standing right behind him, looking over Al's shoulder at the partially written letter.

"Ling! What are you doing here! Don't people knock in Xing?" There was nothing embarrassing in the actual words that were on the parchment, but Al blushed anyway. "And that door was locked!"

"Locks mean nothing to the Emperor of Xing!" his friend declared with a wave of his ringed hand. "And knocking is no fun; you can't catch people naked that way."

Al fingered the high collar of his tunic and frowned at a blotch of ink that had fallen on the parchment when he dropped his pen. "I'm not naked, Ling."

"No, to my eternal disappointment."

"I would still prefer that you knock."

"Pfft. Well, you _are_ dressed, so let's go down together. You can write your letter later." Ling glanced at the desk, his gaze traveling to the folded paper that rested inches away from the parchment. "Oh, is that the letter you received? I heard something came for you from Amestris." Ling reached over and picked up the letter.

"Ling! Isn't there such a thing a privacy in Xing?"

"Privacy means nothing to the Emperor of Xing!" Ling waved his hand again and then turned his attention to the letter. "I don't recognize any of these things," he said, peering closely at the words. "What's _Linguae mei?_ And what's May got to do with it?"

Al seized the opportunity to deflect Ling's curiosity. "Umm, it's a chemical compound, and uh... May gets it for me. Ed always spells her name wrong."

"Oh." Ling scanned the letter some more, then pointed at the last few lines. "He asks for tea an awful lot - he's always got it in these lists of his and he can't spell _that_ properly either," he said with a sniff. "What boring letters he writes." He let go of the letter, and watched it flutter down to land on the desk. "Are all Amestrian letters this boring? Oh look, you wrote one too! Let me see!" Before Al could protest the young emperor snatched up the paper that lay in front of him.

"'Dear Brother,'" Ling read aloud, "'I received your list and am more than willing to give you everything you asked for. I am also including the following:

'Tactavi  
Te recorderum  
Manus mei factavit manus teum  
Me ciereum,  
Me delectatum  
  
'Cupio os teum supra mei  
Corpus corporis teum penitatum  
Permoveos pari unus.'" 


Ling peeked over the parchment and gave Al a long look. "You _are_ all this boring. I must bring in some Xingese poets to teach you how to write a proper letter." He put the letter down and shook his head. "Hopeless," he said. "Well, you can finish it later; the banquet is about to start and I want you there."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," Al replied with a cheeky grin. "You go on ahead - I'll be there soon, I promise."

Ling grinned back. "You'd better be, or I'll eat your share." With a swirl of silks and furs he turned and left.

Al chuckled and ran a finger along the list of words in Ed's letter. "Good thing Ling doesn't know this language, Brother," he said. He picked up the response he had started and set it back in front him, smoothing out a fold in one of the corners while he read over what he had written:

_I touched myself  
thinking of you  
My hand became your hand  
arousing me,  
pleasuring me._

_I want your mouth on mine  
Your body inside mine_  
 _while we move as one._

He retrieved his pen and drew an arrow at the ink blot. He scrawled 'This was Ling's fault' above the arrow.

"I'll finish this when I get back, Brother," Al said. Tomorrow he would put together a packet of Xingese treats - and now he'd better include tea - to send to his brother along with his reply.

Al re-folded Ed's letter, and then he rose and went into his bedroom. He reached for a small, carved box that sat on the table next to his bed. The box held all of the 'lists' that Ed had sent him, and Al fished through its contents and plucked out three of them at random. He placed the four papers on his pillow, running his fingers over their well-worn creases.

Tonight, alone, he would re-read Ed's letter. Then he would read the others as well, and let their secret words take him back into his brother's arms.


End file.
